![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batsutousaiTitle: Clouds In My Coffee
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: T+
Pairings: Loki/Tom Hiddleston
Challenge: 30 Day OTP Challenge
Summary: For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding.
Chapter Warnings: After-effects of canon torture, H/C, suggestion of masochism (if you tilt your head)
A/N: So there I was, wondering how the hell I'm supposed to write an interesting ficlet based on the prompt of 'kissing'. I'd just read a FrostIron fic where Loki was refusing kisses – people do this occasionally, without giving a real reason for it – and I was wondering why Loki would do that. Well, the connotations behind kissing a fling might be off-putting, but that doesn't always do it for me. I want a reason.
And then, oh yeah.
Loki had his lips sewn together.
- Day Five: Kissing -
Morning jogs were his favourite, hands down. The crisp bite of the air, the drowsy motions of commuters just starting their day, the early fog brushing the pavement, soon to be burned away by the light of the just rising sun...
Tom loved the morning.
He was just nearing the Ladies Pond in Battersea Park when a flash of reflected light caught his eye. He was starting to get used to watching out for cameras – though he wasn't quite as good as he'd like to be – and he sighed, resigned that he'd have to find another course for his morning run. 'Don't become predictable,' Luke had warned him more than once, but Tom didn't like having to change his course every other day, just to avoid people taking his picture.
One thing Tom had learned, though, was that if he turned to stare right at the photographer, most of them would make a run for it, afraid of having their camera taken away. So he slowed his jog, took a slow turn, and started back towards the bushes he'd caught the light in.
Nothing moved.
Tom slowed further, uncertain. Maybe it wasn't a photographer. But then, what? Someone with a weapon looking to jump a too curious passerby? Or maybe just something caught on a branch?
He should turn away.
The wind shifted slightly, and carried on it the sound of a muted sob.
Okay, no, Tom couldn't walk away from someone in pain. Which drove everyone who knew him completely mad.
Moved the rest of the way towards the bushes, hands held out in a sign of peace. "You okay?" he called, warning whoever was there that he was coming over.
The muffled sobs fell suddenly silent, and a movement he hadn't even registered stopped. Shaking shoulders, Tom realised, and his heart went out to the person whose outline he could just barely make out. They were hunched over, he thought, and their clothing had some unusual lines, but who was he to judge weird clothing? He was an actor, and it wasn't completely out of the question that he'd go out in one of his costumes for a bite to eat. (Though someone usually yelled when he did.)
"Do you need help?" Tom asked, because the silence and lack of movement was unnerving. And he didn't really want to walk in on someone if they just needed a moment alone. (No matter how much he wanted to help, there were lines. He knew that. Most of the time.)
The silence stretched.
Tom warred with himself for a moment, then shook his head and pushed through the bushes. If the person wanted him to piss off, they would have said so. He hoped.
It was dark in the bushes, the early morning light only barely making it through the trees above them. There was definitely only one person there, crouched against the trunk of one of the older trees. It took Tom a moment to recognise what he was seeing, to get his mind around the fact that this person was wearing something not unlike his Loki costume for Avengers Assemble. The glint of reflected light that had caught his attention had been from the shoulder plating, he realised, not a camera lens.
Crazy fan or no – who wore a costume this early in the morning when it wasn't Halloween or they weren't an actor? – Tom couldn't just leave them. And especially if they were a fan, he couldn't just walk away. "Hey," he said, kneeling next to them.
They turned to look at him, then, and Tom almost fell backward in shock to find his own face glaring at him.
"Oh my God," Tom breathed. And then he saw the stains of blood at the other man's lips, the black twine criss-crossing over his lips, and he knew. "Loki..."
Some of the anger left the god's eyes, but not all. He seemed almost confused by Tom's reaction – Or, more likely, by finding someone who shares his face, Tom thought.
Tom knew three things: Loki was potentially dangerous and violent, Tom wanted to help him, and it was probably best not to take him to hospital. "Hey," he whispered, touching Loki's arm lightly and wanting to hurt something when the god flinched away, "can you stand?"
Loki narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
"I just–" Tom took a breath. "I want to help," he said, keeping his expression as honest as possible – it wasn't hard, he couldn't lie worth anything. "But I don't have anything here to do so. Need to go back to my flat."
Disbelief.
"I really do," Tom insisted quietly. "Want to help, I mean. I don't– I can't just sit back and watch someone in pain, no matter who they are." Or how easily they could break my neck, Tom added to himself, and hoped Loki wouldn't actually harm him.
Loki snorted and turned his head away.
"Please," Tom tried, because he wasn't sure he could just walk away. "Please let me help."
Loki glanced back at him, disbelieving and more than a little confused, but when Tom pushed against the underside of his elbow and started to stand, Loki rose with him.
Loki kept his head down as they walked back to Tom's flat, clearly understanding that people wouldn't take well to seeing the blood still welling from the wounds around his mouth. Tom saw more than one double-take from the few people they passed, and he spared a moment's gratitude for the early hour that had most people in their beds, and those that were awake and about, were likely in a rush to get to work.
At Tom's flat, he led the god to his dining table and sat him down. "I'll be right back," he promised and hurried into his bedroom to find his small medical kit. Setting that on the table, next to Loki, he hunted down the scissors he kept in the kitchen and gave them a quick scrub, since he'd used them the night before to cut up some chicken for dinner, then filled a bowl with water and grabbed a roll of paper towels.
When he finally sat down at the table, all the things he thought he might need arrayed next to him, he wet a paper towel. "I need to wipe away the blood," he offered. "I'll try to be gentle, but I can't promise I won't hurt you, okay?"
Loki narrowed his eyes and gave a jerky nod.
Tom gently brought the paper towel to Loki's chin and the god flinched back. Judging by the anger in Loki's eyes and the way his fingers bit against his legs where they rested in his lap, Tom thought the god hadn't meant to react so obviously to his touch, and he hurt all over again. He brought his free hand up and cupped Loki's cheek, which made him flinch again, then started rubbing – in what he hoped was a soothing manner – his thumb against the god's cheekbone.
Loki's eyes darted down and went a little cross-eyed to stare at the gentle touch, disbelief as loud as a scream. But it kept him distracted from Tom's careful cleaning of his chin and the wounds that pulled and opened anew each time his face shifted.
"There," Tom said at last, the blood cleaned away. Loki's eyes met his, something like surprise in them, and a bead of blood welled up from one of the wounds around his mouth as it twitched. Tom couldn't help but wince – that had to hurt – and gently wiped it away before setting the pink-stained paper towel in the small pile he'd started. He picked up the scissors, then, and showed them to the god. "I'm going to start cutting the string now, okay?"
Loki shook his head and reached up to his own mouth. He tugged at the visible knotted end of the twine, causing blood to well up from almost all of the wounds all over again.
"Stop!" Tom shouted, grabbing Loki's hand and pulling it away. He tore off another paper towel and carefully blotted away the blood. "Please," he whispered to the shock in Loki's eyes, "don't hurt yourself any more, okay? Do I need to get you something to write with?"
Loki considered that for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay. I'll be right back," Tom promised and retreated to his bedroom for some paper and a pen.
As soon as Tom handed the writing implements over, Loki wrote, 'It will not cut. You must unknot the end and pull it through.'
Tom felt sick at the thought. He'd known he would have to pull the bits of twine from the wounds after he'd cut it, but that would have been small bits for each wound, not the entire thing. He cupped Loki's cheek again, trying to ignore the way the god flinched. "Okay," he whispered. And, then, "I'm sorry," because it was going to hurt, and he knew it.
Loki shrugged, clearly resigned to the necessity. But there was some emotion in his eyes – uncertainty, Tom thought, or maybe fear – that made Tom wish none of this were necessary.
Tom carefully took to the knot with his thumbnail, trying to loosen it enough to undo it without causing further harm. A couple of the wounds bled again, but he managed to get the knot undone with less damage than he'd feared he would cause. "Okay," he whispered again. "Here we go." He quickly pulled the twine through the first two holes, figuring it was rather like ripping off a plaster.
Loki flinched back at the sudden pain, and the rest of the twine tugged against his lips.
Tom dropped the end he'd been holding like it burned. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, horrified. "Oh, God, I'm so sor–"
Loki firmly covered Tom's mouth to shut him up. With his free hand, he wrote, 'Just do it, you obnoxious fool.'
Loki calling him names should not have been reassuring to Tom, but it sort of was. He nodded and Loki removed his hand. When Tom reached up for the twine, Loki flinched again and his fingers dug into the leather covering his legs. Tom wished there was a way for him to make everything better, other than causing more pain.
A memory came to him, then, of him having skinned his knee and his mum kissing it better.
And, okay, kisses don't actually have healing properties, but it was a way to say, 'I'm sorry' and 'I care about you' and 'I wish I could make this pain go away'. So Tom leaned forward and, very gently, pressed his lips against the wounds at the corner of Loki's mouth that were free of the twine. When he leaned back, he found that Loki's eyes were wide with disbelief and something a little like fear.
"Next two," Tom whispered, ignoring Loki's expression, and quickly pulled out the next length of twine. Loki flinched again, but Tom had been ready for it and let the twine go so it didn't tug. He leaned forward and kissed the two newly-freed wounds.
Loki let out a strangled sound and one hand came up to grip at Tom's arm, the one that he kept cupping Loki's cheek, rather than the one pulling out the twine.
Tom gave him a moment, reading the uncertainty in the green eyes. Once Loki's grip on his arm had loosened slightly, he warned, "Next two," and pulled out the next length of twine. Loki flinched, then Tom leaned in and again kissed the wounds.
Loki's grip tightened on Tom's arm again and he'd closed his eyes by the time Tom pulled back.
Tom kept on, giving warning before pulling out the next length of twine, then kissing the freed wounds. Eleven stitches. Twenty-three small wounds, each bleeding anew at the abuse. Tom considered wiping away the blood, but figured it could wait until they were all done and he could sanitize the wounds at the same time.
By the time Tom had freed all but the last strand, Loki was shaking, eyes clenched shut. Tom finished kissing the newest two, then whispered, "Last one. You're going to have to open your mouth."
Loki's eyes opened then, bright with tears and a sort of vulnerability that made Tom's heart ache. "Why?" the god rasped.
Tom wasn't sure if Loki was asking why he was helping, or why he was kissing the wounds, but since he didn't really have an answer for the latter, he said, "Because no one deserved to have their lips sewn together." Loki's grip tightened on Tom's arm. "Open your mouth?" he requested.
Loki did and Tom quickly pulled the twine through the last hole, dropping it with no little disgust onto the pile of used paper towels. Then he leaned forward and, as gently as he could, pressed his lips to the last wound.
A single tear fell from Loki's eye and he let out a muffled whimper before tilting his head and pressing his lips tight against Tom's. Tom made to pull away – that couldn't not hurt, and he didn't want to hurt Loki – but the hand that wasn't wrapped around Tom's arm gripped the back of his head and held him in place. And when Loki's mouth opened against his, tongue probing insistently against Tom's lips, he let it in without a fight. The taste of blood bloomed across his tongue, iron with a hint of winter's chill, and Tom sort of hated that he didn't mind the taste.
When Loki pulled back, his eyes were still damp, but there was a sense of control, now, that hadn't been there before. "You're a fool," he murmured, blood ringing his mouth and staining his teeth.
Tom soothed his thumb over the god's cheekbone. "Yeah," he whispered, "I know."
Loki finally pulled Tom's hand away from his face, leaned forward to press a hard kiss to Tom's lips, then vanished with a glimmer of green light.
Tom spent a moment staring at the empty chair the god had been sitting in, then shook his head and got up to clean up the mess they'd left behind and his own likely blood-stained mouth. He knew, somehow without question, that Loki would be back.
He was looking forward to it.
Days:
1 - Holding Hands ||| 2 - Cuddling Somewhere ||| 3 - Gaming ||| 4 - On a Date |||5 - Kissing
6 - Wearing Each Other's Clothing ||| 7 - Cosplaying ||| 8 - Shopping ||| 9 - Hanging Out With Friends ||| 10 - With Animal Ears
11 - Wearing Kigurumi ||| 12 - Making Out ||| 13 - Eating Ice Cream ||| 14 - Genderswapped ||| 15 - Different Clothing Style
16 - Morning Rituals ||| 17 - Spooning ||| 18 - Doing Something Together ||| 19 - In Formal Wear ||| 20 - Dancing
21 - Cooking/Baking ||| 22 - In Battle, Side-By-Side ||| 23 - Arguing ||| 24 - Making Up After ||| 25 - Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes
26 - Getting Married ||| 27 - Birthday ||| 28 - Something Ridiculous ||| 29 - Something Sweet ||| 30 - Something Hot
Masterlist
..
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: T+
Pairings: Loki/Tom Hiddleston
Challenge: 30 Day OTP Challenge
Summary: For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding.
Chapter Warnings: After-effects of canon torture, H/C, suggestion of masochism (if you tilt your head)
A/N: So there I was, wondering how the hell I'm supposed to write an interesting ficlet based on the prompt of 'kissing'. I'd just read a FrostIron fic where Loki was refusing kisses – people do this occasionally, without giving a real reason for it – and I was wondering why Loki would do that. Well, the connotations behind kissing a fling might be off-putting, but that doesn't always do it for me. I want a reason.
And then, oh yeah.
Loki had his lips sewn together.
Morning jogs were his favourite, hands down. The crisp bite of the air, the drowsy motions of commuters just starting their day, the early fog brushing the pavement, soon to be burned away by the light of the just rising sun...
Tom loved the morning.
He was just nearing the Ladies Pond in Battersea Park when a flash of reflected light caught his eye. He was starting to get used to watching out for cameras – though he wasn't quite as good as he'd like to be – and he sighed, resigned that he'd have to find another course for his morning run. 'Don't become predictable,' Luke had warned him more than once, but Tom didn't like having to change his course every other day, just to avoid people taking his picture.
One thing Tom had learned, though, was that if he turned to stare right at the photographer, most of them would make a run for it, afraid of having their camera taken away. So he slowed his jog, took a slow turn, and started back towards the bushes he'd caught the light in.
Nothing moved.
Tom slowed further, uncertain. Maybe it wasn't a photographer. But then, what? Someone with a weapon looking to jump a too curious passerby? Or maybe just something caught on a branch?
He should turn away.
The wind shifted slightly, and carried on it the sound of a muted sob.
Okay, no, Tom couldn't walk away from someone in pain. Which drove everyone who knew him completely mad.
Moved the rest of the way towards the bushes, hands held out in a sign of peace. "You okay?" he called, warning whoever was there that he was coming over.
The muffled sobs fell suddenly silent, and a movement he hadn't even registered stopped. Shaking shoulders, Tom realised, and his heart went out to the person whose outline he could just barely make out. They were hunched over, he thought, and their clothing had some unusual lines, but who was he to judge weird clothing? He was an actor, and it wasn't completely out of the question that he'd go out in one of his costumes for a bite to eat. (Though someone usually yelled when he did.)
"Do you need help?" Tom asked, because the silence and lack of movement was unnerving. And he didn't really want to walk in on someone if they just needed a moment alone. (No matter how much he wanted to help, there were lines. He knew that. Most of the time.)
The silence stretched.
Tom warred with himself for a moment, then shook his head and pushed through the bushes. If the person wanted him to piss off, they would have said so. He hoped.
It was dark in the bushes, the early morning light only barely making it through the trees above them. There was definitely only one person there, crouched against the trunk of one of the older trees. It took Tom a moment to recognise what he was seeing, to get his mind around the fact that this person was wearing something not unlike his Loki costume for Avengers Assemble. The glint of reflected light that had caught his attention had been from the shoulder plating, he realised, not a camera lens.
Crazy fan or no – who wore a costume this early in the morning when it wasn't Halloween or they weren't an actor? – Tom couldn't just leave them. And especially if they were a fan, he couldn't just walk away. "Hey," he said, kneeling next to them.
They turned to look at him, then, and Tom almost fell backward in shock to find his own face glaring at him.
"Oh my God," Tom breathed. And then he saw the stains of blood at the other man's lips, the black twine criss-crossing over his lips, and he knew. "Loki..."
Some of the anger left the god's eyes, but not all. He seemed almost confused by Tom's reaction – Or, more likely, by finding someone who shares his face, Tom thought.
Tom knew three things: Loki was potentially dangerous and violent, Tom wanted to help him, and it was probably best not to take him to hospital. "Hey," he whispered, touching Loki's arm lightly and wanting to hurt something when the god flinched away, "can you stand?"
Loki narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
"I just–" Tom took a breath. "I want to help," he said, keeping his expression as honest as possible – it wasn't hard, he couldn't lie worth anything. "But I don't have anything here to do so. Need to go back to my flat."
Disbelief.
"I really do," Tom insisted quietly. "Want to help, I mean. I don't– I can't just sit back and watch someone in pain, no matter who they are." Or how easily they could break my neck, Tom added to himself, and hoped Loki wouldn't actually harm him.
Loki snorted and turned his head away.
"Please," Tom tried, because he wasn't sure he could just walk away. "Please let me help."
Loki glanced back at him, disbelieving and more than a little confused, but when Tom pushed against the underside of his elbow and started to stand, Loki rose with him.
Loki kept his head down as they walked back to Tom's flat, clearly understanding that people wouldn't take well to seeing the blood still welling from the wounds around his mouth. Tom saw more than one double-take from the few people they passed, and he spared a moment's gratitude for the early hour that had most people in their beds, and those that were awake and about, were likely in a rush to get to work.
At Tom's flat, he led the god to his dining table and sat him down. "I'll be right back," he promised and hurried into his bedroom to find his small medical kit. Setting that on the table, next to Loki, he hunted down the scissors he kept in the kitchen and gave them a quick scrub, since he'd used them the night before to cut up some chicken for dinner, then filled a bowl with water and grabbed a roll of paper towels.
When he finally sat down at the table, all the things he thought he might need arrayed next to him, he wet a paper towel. "I need to wipe away the blood," he offered. "I'll try to be gentle, but I can't promise I won't hurt you, okay?"
Loki narrowed his eyes and gave a jerky nod.
Tom gently brought the paper towel to Loki's chin and the god flinched back. Judging by the anger in Loki's eyes and the way his fingers bit against his legs where they rested in his lap, Tom thought the god hadn't meant to react so obviously to his touch, and he hurt all over again. He brought his free hand up and cupped Loki's cheek, which made him flinch again, then started rubbing – in what he hoped was a soothing manner – his thumb against the god's cheekbone.
Loki's eyes darted down and went a little cross-eyed to stare at the gentle touch, disbelief as loud as a scream. But it kept him distracted from Tom's careful cleaning of his chin and the wounds that pulled and opened anew each time his face shifted.
"There," Tom said at last, the blood cleaned away. Loki's eyes met his, something like surprise in them, and a bead of blood welled up from one of the wounds around his mouth as it twitched. Tom couldn't help but wince – that had to hurt – and gently wiped it away before setting the pink-stained paper towel in the small pile he'd started. He picked up the scissors, then, and showed them to the god. "I'm going to start cutting the string now, okay?"
Loki shook his head and reached up to his own mouth. He tugged at the visible knotted end of the twine, causing blood to well up from almost all of the wounds all over again.
"Stop!" Tom shouted, grabbing Loki's hand and pulling it away. He tore off another paper towel and carefully blotted away the blood. "Please," he whispered to the shock in Loki's eyes, "don't hurt yourself any more, okay? Do I need to get you something to write with?"
Loki considered that for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay. I'll be right back," Tom promised and retreated to his bedroom for some paper and a pen.
As soon as Tom handed the writing implements over, Loki wrote, 'It will not cut. You must unknot the end and pull it through.'
Tom felt sick at the thought. He'd known he would have to pull the bits of twine from the wounds after he'd cut it, but that would have been small bits for each wound, not the entire thing. He cupped Loki's cheek again, trying to ignore the way the god flinched. "Okay," he whispered. And, then, "I'm sorry," because it was going to hurt, and he knew it.
Loki shrugged, clearly resigned to the necessity. But there was some emotion in his eyes – uncertainty, Tom thought, or maybe fear – that made Tom wish none of this were necessary.
Tom carefully took to the knot with his thumbnail, trying to loosen it enough to undo it without causing further harm. A couple of the wounds bled again, but he managed to get the knot undone with less damage than he'd feared he would cause. "Okay," he whispered again. "Here we go." He quickly pulled the twine through the first two holes, figuring it was rather like ripping off a plaster.
Loki flinched back at the sudden pain, and the rest of the twine tugged against his lips.
Tom dropped the end he'd been holding like it burned. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, horrified. "Oh, God, I'm so sor–"
Loki firmly covered Tom's mouth to shut him up. With his free hand, he wrote, 'Just do it, you obnoxious fool.'
Loki calling him names should not have been reassuring to Tom, but it sort of was. He nodded and Loki removed his hand. When Tom reached up for the twine, Loki flinched again and his fingers dug into the leather covering his legs. Tom wished there was a way for him to make everything better, other than causing more pain.
A memory came to him, then, of him having skinned his knee and his mum kissing it better.
And, okay, kisses don't actually have healing properties, but it was a way to say, 'I'm sorry' and 'I care about you' and 'I wish I could make this pain go away'. So Tom leaned forward and, very gently, pressed his lips against the wounds at the corner of Loki's mouth that were free of the twine. When he leaned back, he found that Loki's eyes were wide with disbelief and something a little like fear.
"Next two," Tom whispered, ignoring Loki's expression, and quickly pulled out the next length of twine. Loki flinched again, but Tom had been ready for it and let the twine go so it didn't tug. He leaned forward and kissed the two newly-freed wounds.
Loki let out a strangled sound and one hand came up to grip at Tom's arm, the one that he kept cupping Loki's cheek, rather than the one pulling out the twine.
Tom gave him a moment, reading the uncertainty in the green eyes. Once Loki's grip on his arm had loosened slightly, he warned, "Next two," and pulled out the next length of twine. Loki flinched, then Tom leaned in and again kissed the wounds.
Loki's grip tightened on Tom's arm again and he'd closed his eyes by the time Tom pulled back.
Tom kept on, giving warning before pulling out the next length of twine, then kissing the freed wounds. Eleven stitches. Twenty-three small wounds, each bleeding anew at the abuse. Tom considered wiping away the blood, but figured it could wait until they were all done and he could sanitize the wounds at the same time.
By the time Tom had freed all but the last strand, Loki was shaking, eyes clenched shut. Tom finished kissing the newest two, then whispered, "Last one. You're going to have to open your mouth."
Loki's eyes opened then, bright with tears and a sort of vulnerability that made Tom's heart ache. "Why?" the god rasped.
Tom wasn't sure if Loki was asking why he was helping, or why he was kissing the wounds, but since he didn't really have an answer for the latter, he said, "Because no one deserved to have their lips sewn together." Loki's grip tightened on Tom's arm. "Open your mouth?" he requested.
Loki did and Tom quickly pulled the twine through the last hole, dropping it with no little disgust onto the pile of used paper towels. Then he leaned forward and, as gently as he could, pressed his lips to the last wound.
A single tear fell from Loki's eye and he let out a muffled whimper before tilting his head and pressing his lips tight against Tom's. Tom made to pull away – that couldn't not hurt, and he didn't want to hurt Loki – but the hand that wasn't wrapped around Tom's arm gripped the back of his head and held him in place. And when Loki's mouth opened against his, tongue probing insistently against Tom's lips, he let it in without a fight. The taste of blood bloomed across his tongue, iron with a hint of winter's chill, and Tom sort of hated that he didn't mind the taste.
When Loki pulled back, his eyes were still damp, but there was a sense of control, now, that hadn't been there before. "You're a fool," he murmured, blood ringing his mouth and staining his teeth.
Tom soothed his thumb over the god's cheekbone. "Yeah," he whispered, "I know."
Loki finally pulled Tom's hand away from his face, leaned forward to press a hard kiss to Tom's lips, then vanished with a glimmer of green light.
Tom spent a moment staring at the empty chair the god had been sitting in, then shook his head and got up to clean up the mess they'd left behind and his own likely blood-stained mouth. He knew, somehow without question, that Loki would be back.
He was looking forward to it.
1 - Holding Hands ||| 2 - Cuddling Somewhere ||| 3 - Gaming ||| 4 - On a Date |||
6 - Wearing Each Other's Clothing ||| 7 - Cosplaying ||| 8 - Shopping ||| 9 - Hanging Out With Friends ||| 10 - With Animal Ears
11 - Wearing Kigurumi ||| 12 - Making Out ||| 13 - Eating Ice Cream ||| 14 - Genderswapped ||| 15 - Different Clothing Style
16 - Morning Rituals ||| 17 - Spooning ||| 18 - Doing Something Together ||| 19 - In Formal Wear ||| 20 - Dancing
21 - Cooking/Baking ||| 22 - In Battle, Side-By-Side ||| 23 - Arguing ||| 24 - Making Up After ||| 25 - Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes
26 - Getting Married ||| 27 - Birthday ||| 28 - Something Ridiculous ||| 29 - Something Sweet ||| 30 - Something Hot
Masterlist
..
